evol

merely epidermic, the tale once told.
uncovered leisurely between a pair of midnight owls.
starts at the slow chapters of a moon stroll,
decided abruptly to enter the phase of bold.


thanks for sharing your branch, freak owl :)

idieh morf nidih

im hiding the pen in my pocket,
until i found the right words to put in the bracket.

edited : im takin out the pen and hand it to you.lets write things together. lets write mistakes and corrections all over again.you,me and this pen.

this

i take an evening walk near the garden yesterday.
i saw an old couple.
holding hand,
walking together,slowly.
smiling at each other.
talking.
laughing.
i have no idea how long they been doing it.
but they rocks.

your legs must be killing you

because you've been running through my mind for the whole day.
cliche,but yeah,
sweet.
sweet,but yeah,
annoying.

Greg's diary

now that you're not around.
all i can do is,
read all your old text messages.
hear back all your voice messages,
until i slept.

Im a playground

you came to me.
you jump around, you swing around,
you run around, you slide around.
you said it was fun.
the smile can tell absolutely that.
there are tiny little flowers around the playground.
i was happy to see that smile on your face when you're running around me like a little kid.
when you get tired,you'd take some rest at the stool.
and then started to run around again.
we're young,stinky,ugly,covered by mud and in love.
and i cherish every moment.
but then,
you started to get bored.
and you said it was not fun anymore.
you jump away, you swing away,
you run away, you slide away.
and that precious beautiful little smile begins to fade away
but hey,
no,im not sad.
maybe a little bit,but its okay.
the track of my tears will grow fainter.
i know whats wrong.i see it coming.
now that you're growing up,
you're looking for a garden instead of a playground.
you felt this place doesn't suits you anymore.
you're demanding a beautiful rose instead of a lame tire swing.
well,good luck in finding your perfect garden.
thanks.
thanks for visiting this junk playground.
thanks for the memories.

if you decide to come back one day,
i would be happy to welcome you.
but this place will not stay the same again when you come back.
i may not be the beautiful garden you're dreaming of,
but that few tiny little flowers around us before,will started to bloom.
this stupid playground will slowly turns into a modest garden.
slowly and humbly.
while still keeping all the swings and slides.
you can come again and sit at the stool.
you can sit around.
but the flowers are not yours anymore.

so long my luckless romance.

Falling star

It’s not every day,
you’d witnessed a star.
Falling right in front of you.
One that shines luminously.
Dazzle around nonsensically.
Catastrophically beautiful occurrence.
Hey,
thanks for falling,
MYPB.